Page:Oxford Book of English Verse 1250-1900.djvu/182

 Ulysses. But yet the state of things require             These motions of unrest:            And these great Spirits of high desire              Seem born to turn them best:            To purge the mischiefs that increase              And all good order mar:            For oft we see a wicked peace              To be well changed for war. Siren. Well, well, Ulysses, then I see             I shall not have thee here:            And therefore I will come to thee,              And take my fortune there. I must be won, that cannot win,             Yet lost were I not won;            For beauty hath created been              T' undo, or be undone. 113. Beauty, Time, and Love

Fair is my Love and cruel as she's fair; Her brow-shades frown, although her eyes are sunny, Her smiles are lightning, though her pride despair, And her disdains are gall, her favours honey: A modest maid, deck'd with a blush of honour, Whose feet do tread green paths of youth and love; The wonder of all eyes that look upon her, Sacred on earth, design'd a Saint above. Chastity and Beauty, which were deadly foes, Live reconcilèd friends within her brow; And had she Pity to conjoin with those, Then who had heard the plaints I utter now? For had she not been fair, and thus unkind, My Muse had slept, and none had known my mind.